Work Text:
— 1 —
When Wriothesley arrived at the Palais days later after the flood, he was expecting turmoil and chaos. However, he was met by a normal day like any other before the prophecy. The only difference, however, resided in Neuvillette standing outside his office, cane in hand, directing workers up and down the stairs carrying furniture that suspiciously looked like a vanity.
“Monsieur Neuvillette,” greeted the Duke with a small wave of his hand as he approached the Iudex. “I am aware you like your work, but I didn’t know you were actually moving to the Palais. If you allow a personal opinion, it will have pretty convenient results in the long run.”
“Your Grace, good morning,” greeted Neuvillette. “This furniture belongs to Lady Furina. She abdicated and is moving out from the Palais,” he explained without taking his eyes off the workers. If Wriothesley didn’t know better, he would swear Neuvillette looked melancholic watching them take her stuff.
“I take it this is a busy time for you.”
“Forgive me, I need to oversee how her things are packed and delivered. However, you are free to have some refreshments in my office. I am sure the trip from Meropide has been long.”
And there went his opportunity to have some freshly imported Sumerian tea with the Iudex. Wriothesley wasn’t upset. Of course, not. A little bit sad? Maybe.
“Please, do not hesitate to ask Sedene for anything you need. I will join you as soon as they finish here,” Neuvillette quickly reassured him. “The majority of her belongings have already been stored, they are taking the bigger furniture out.”
Wriothesley could sense this wasn’t an easy topic for him, so he lifted his palms and gave the Iudex a small smile. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t owe me an explanation. I will stay for tea.”
Neuvillette sighed and visibly relaxed, his features softened around his eyes. He glanced at the Duke, a small warm smile on his lips. “That would be much appreciated.”
Oh, how that sincere smile could disarm the Warden from the inside. He didn’t understand, but he wanted Neuvillette to look at him like that always.
With a nod, he retreated to Neuvillette’s office. Leaving the coat over the back of the couch, Wriothesley made his way to the tea cart placed in the corner, taking the tea pot and cups and swiftly preparing his new Sumerian tea.
As he left the leaves to brew, his eyes wandered to the frames sitting against the side of the judge’s desk. Now, he wasn’t a man who liked to pry in others’ businesses or touch people’s belongings—Archons know curiosity led him to discover dark secrets in his teenage years and is now where he is because of that—but a peek at Furina's art collection? Maybe he could slip a little. No harm in that.
The Warden turned the paintings one by one, taking his time to inspect the pictures. Landscapes, ocean sceneries, an early Court of Fontaine bathed in morning light. Famous Fontainian painters’ signatures adorned the corners. All these paintings must be worth a fortune. Still, he handled them with care and placed them aside.
Wriothesley had no instruction in art. To him, anyone who could paint was an artist, whether it was a big name or a small street artist. He also had heard that art is when something touched your heart deeply and stirred indescribable feelings in your chest, but so far he brushed it off as fanaticism. When he turned the last painting, he was left breathless and had to swallow his own words.
“Wow,” he gasped softly and took a moment to appreciate. A short haired Neuvillette, his stern expression and lavender eyes watching back. What caught Wriothesley off guard were the small ears and round eyes. He also didn’t have those blue locks, and his silver hair was carefully swept to the side. He looked younger somehow, with rosy, slightly round cheeks, and what seemed like a deep blue jacket, similar to his robes.
Wriothesley turned the portrait, searching for a date, a signature, something, but there wasn’t anything that indicated when this was painted. Turning back to the painting, he stared in awe at the familiar man portrayed. He finally understood when people said art touches one’s soul, for this masterpiece stirred an all-consuming feeling in his chest—in his heart—something he had tried to suppress for longer than he cared to admit.
— 2 —
The Chief Justice had always been an enigma to Fontaine, and Wriothesley wasn’t the exception. Rumours about his age, his appearance, his mortality, his divinity, even his marital status were always the tea of the Court. Wriothesley had some theories himself, of course, but he never confronted the Iudex about them, opting to observe and reach his own conclusions.
So, when one late night at the Iudex’s office, he glimpsed what seemed to be blue patches on a pale wrist, Wriothesley’s mind short-circuited.
“My apologies for the short notice, but we needed the prisoner’s psychological report before the trial,” Neuvillette hurried to apologize without looking up from his own documents. He delicately extended his hand to take the folder, but Wriothesley kept a firm grip on it. The Iudex tugged again and looked up when the Warden didn’t let go. “Wriothesley?”
Wriothesley was mesmerized—hypnotized, even. The spots glimmered according to the way the light hit them, pearlescent and ethereal, and in a blink they were gone. Neuvillette quickly snatched his hand back, taking the report from his fingers with surprising force, and cleared his throat, subtly tugging down the cuff of his shirt.
“Thank you, Your Grace. My apologies, again, for making you come all the way for a folder.”
“Monsieur?”
“I said, thank—”
“It’s not my place to assume things—and forgive my forwardness,” Wriothesley rushed to say, boldly interrupting Neuvillette. “But, Monsieur, are you…?”
Wriothesley could see the Iudex's eyes widened for a fraction, waiting with bated breath for the revelation.
“A Melusine?” he finished.
He had thought about it; mulled over it and reached the conclusion that if Neuvillette wasn’t the Archon, then he was a Melusine. That would explain why all Melusines followed him like little ducklings, and why he was overly protective of them. Monsieur was actually their father!
A snort followed by a wheeze made Wriothesley's ears warm with a blush. Neuvillette covered his mouth and cleared his throat, but couldn’t suppress the fond smile and soft laugh he tried to cover with his fist.
“Why would you think that?” Neuvillette asked, eyes crinkling with amusement.
Wriothesley, embarrassed and confused, explained his thinking, making the corners of the Chief Justice’s lips turn upwards with every word he said. The Duke hadn’t felt this exposed since his trial.
“Their father? I guess I consider myself one when it comes to them,” Neuvillette agreed and huffed a gentle laugh, refreshing like the sea breeze. “Unfortunately, I’m not. Neither am I a Melusine.”
Leaving the reports aside, Neuvillette took a moment before he rolled his cuff up and slipped his glove off, exposing delicate pale skin adorned with scales. Iridescent pale blue shimmering under the light leading to long, ocean blue clawed fingers.
Wriothesley’s knees were about to give out and fall in a crumpled ball if he hadn’t held onto the desk. This felt so inappropriate to watch, still he couldn’t avert his eyes from his bare hand. Intimate and erotic at the same time, he’d have to go back to the Fortress immediately before making the dreaded walk of shame.
“I am the Hydro Sovereign. A Dragon.” Neuvillette continued, unaware of Wriothesley's inner turmoil.
“The Sovereign?” The Duke repeated when he could find his voice again. Neuvillette turned his hand, the sigil in his palm glowed as he summoned Hydro. He cleared his throat to try and keep it together after the inner side of his wrist was on display. He was such a mess.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to pressure you into confessing your…nature.”
“It’s alright, I suppose,” The Iudex assured him, absorbing the Hydro back in his hand and putting the glove back on. “It’s not like I have ever denied my identity. I simply assumed people were better not knowing. But I don’t have any reason to keep it from you. I trust you.”
And if Wriothesley hadn’t let Neuvillette occupy his mind and heart a long time ago, this open declaration would have certainly made his crumbling walls fall and surrender to the authority the Sovereign had over him.
— 3 —
“Monsieur Neuvillette has not come to work today, Your Grace,” announced Sedene, her rhinophores slightly drooped.
To say it was weird and worrying was an understatement. Neuvillette never missed a day of work for as long as Wriothesley knew.
“Did he say why?”
“He sent a notice saying he wasn’t feeling well.”
Now that was alarming. He never got sick, never coughed, never sneezed, never had anything that could remotely be a symptom of an illness. And all of a sudden he called in sick? Wriothesley was worried. Neuvillette must be in danger or something equally bad.
Sedene, ever the dutiful secretary, lowered her voice and beckoned the Warden closer. “It is hectic today in the Palais because no one expected the Iudex’s absence. I have not been able to send word to one of my sisters on patrol to check on Monsieur yet, and I am worried something is wrong with him.”
“Don’t worry, I will personally go and check if everything’s alright.” The Duke was quick to offer and Sedene nodded with a relieved sigh.
“That would be great, Your Grace. I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”
***
Neuvillette’s house was eerily quiet. The curtains were closed and draped over the windows to prevent the sun from filtering and all the lights were off. There was something in the air akin to the calmness before a storm that unsettled Wriothesley, and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he picked the lock to get inside.
“Monsieur?” he called as he closed the front door behind him. “Monsieur, are you home?”
No response.
“Hello?” Wriothesley called again and made a few steps before he heard shuffling from the sitting room. He peeked around the doors but saw nothing, and just when he was about to step in, a shadow moved in the corner of his eye. “Neuvillette?”
A thump and things falling in the kitchen alerted him of a presence. With confident steps, Wriothesley strode into the kitchen and turned the lights on. Pots and pans had fallen to the floor, the table shoved aside, and a chair fell next to it, like someone had clumsily bumped into it when trying to get up with haste. It didn’t explain the mess on the floor, though.
Making his way to the backdoor, it was tightly locked, and the backyard seemed to be in order from what Wriothesley could glimpse from the window. Good, no one had broken in. Well, except for him.
He heard the thump again, accompanied by heavy footsteps at the entrance, and followed the noise. This was turning into a cat and mouse game, a chase that he should win in order to check on Neuvillette, and ensure his safety.
Slipping through the sitting room expecting to catch whoever was hiding from him, a rumbling growl caught him off guard. Just as he spun on his feet, Cryo and gauntlets ready to launch his attack, he bumped into Neuvillette’s chest.
“Wriothesley,” he growled again, voice unnaturally deep and guttural.
The Duke took a step back, his eyes slowly going up and up until he had to crane his neck up to meet reptilian lavender ones. His breath caught in his throat.
“Neuvillette?” he asked, a chill running along his spine.
He would recognize that silver hair, the lilac eyes and the rhinophores—as Sigewinne kindly taught him—anywhere. What he didn’t recognize were the blue horns turning upwards like corals sitting at the sides of his glowing rhinophores.
There were scales adorning his jaw and cheekbones and Wriothesley could see through the night robe slipping off Neuvillette's left shoulder that the scales went beyond his neck and chest, hiding under the silky clothing.
The man—dragon?—growled again as he took a step towards the Duke, a heavy sound against the floor as he was cornered against the wall. Wriothesley dared to look down, to know what was that thumping sound and he gasped.
There, robe barely covering any indecency, were two of the biggest, blue legs he had ever seen. He could only describe them as Vishap shaped, and a thick tail swished behind him, thumping the floor.
“Wriothesley, what are you doing here?” he asked, and Wriothesley's knees went weak at that voice. Black claws and gradient blue arms covered with scales kept him up by his shoulders and the Warden noticed with unbridled clarity the fangs peaking behind parted lips and—was that a forked tongue?
Wriothesley felt small for the first time. Insignificant in the face of such a majestic creature. He couldn’t breathe.
“Neuv—Monsieur, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I woke up with this appearance. I hope it’s not too unsettling,” he rumbled.
“Unsettling would be an understatement,” Wriothesley snorted and tried to take deep breaths to calm his racing heart. It was impossible when Neuvillette was in his space, crowding him with a purring chest shoved in his face. “Could you give me some space, please?”
Startled, Neuvillette took a step back and tripped over his tail, falling against the stairs railing.
“Monsieur, are you okay?” Wriothesley quickly tried to help him up but Neuvillette just pulled him down into his arms, purring as he rubbed his face against his cheek.
The Warden froze. His logical mind told him to get up, he was over the Chief Justice! How scandalous! But his heart told him to stay in his arms and accept the weird cat behavior. He tried to remove the dragon’s arms off him, only to be squeezed and held tighter.
“Monsieur—”
“Neuvillette,” The Iudex cut him off. “Please, Wriothesley. I am simply Neuvillette to you.”
A warmth spread from Wriothesley's chest up to his neck and ears. He knew he must be red by now, burning with shame and other types of heat. Slowly, and as much as he could with a racing heart beating in his throat, he eased and relaxed into the strong arms of the Sovereign he came to adore fervently.
— 4 —
Wriothesley had planned this date for weeks. The place, the day, the activities, the food. Everything was in check.
Sigewinne had informed him that Monsieur Neuvillette was overworking himself again and rain hadn’t been kind to the people of Fontaine. The Duke took it upon himself to remedy the situation.
He sent a note to Neuvillette, arranging a meeting at a determined hour and place, and that he would be waiting for him there. Since their relationship had taken a more personal turn, the Iudex had asked to keep it out of the public eye, preferring their moments to remain private and intimate between them. Wriothesley had no qualms with that, agreeing on the spot.
Fishing rods under an arm and basket brimming with food in hand, Wriothesley made it to one of his favorite spots to fish. The weather was on their side, too, with a bright clear sky.
Finding a nice place under the shade of a tree, Wriothesley placed the tablecloth on the grass and prepared their picnic for when Neuvillete arrived. He spotted some Vishaps near their place, but as long as they didn’t bother the beasts, the Vishaps would not attack.
He was in the middle of securing bait on the hook when one of them approached his location. It kept a cautious distance, sniffing the air and watching the Warden curiously. Wriothesley remained alert, but didn’t do anything harsh or move suddenly.
Neuvillette would be here any minute, he thought, and went up the hill to see if he could spot the dragon from up there.
“Were you looking for me?”
The Duke jumped out of his skin, startled by his lover’s sudden voice. Turning around, Neuvillette watched him with an amused smile sporting only his jacket, his robes laying with the Duke’s coat over the tablecloth.
“Sovereigns. Don’t scare me like that!” Wriothesley huffed and took Neuvillette's hand, kissing its back. “When did you get here? I didn’t hear you.”
“I was enjoying a swim until I saw you had arrived,” he explained as they made their way back to their picnic. “It’s a nice place. You really thought of everything.”
“Swimming?” He furrowed his brows in confusion. “But, no one was here when I arrived.”
“I was with the Vishaps.”
“With the Vishaps?”
“Yes.”
Wriothesley blinked. He shouldn’t be surprised that his intended would be swimming with the Vishaps, he was the Sovereign after all.
“I didn’t see you…” the Duke insisted.
Neuvillette chuckled and sat down, pulling his legs closer to him. “I know. You were busy with your fishing rods.”
Wriothesley frowned and hummed, sitting down next to Neuvillette. The Iudex could see the gears turning in his head with an amused expression, picking one of the bite sized pastries.
“Were you with the Vishaps or were you one of them?” The Warden asked tentatively, squinting his eyes as he remembered the vivid lilac eyes of the Vishap that sniffed around his picnic set up.
“Would you like to guess?” the Iudex teased him with a grin.
Wriothesley didn’t have to guess anything since he already knew the answer. Neuvillette only confirmed his suspicions later when they went out for a swim, and the same blue Vishap with lavender eyes nudged his side and licked his face. With a perplexed look and hair sticking out of his forehead, the Duke could only imagine how absurd he must look to the outside and burst in laughter as he patted the vishap’s head and climbed on his back.
— 5 —
The trek to Elynas had been chaotic.
Rumours of a dragon sighting in the sea around the Palais had kept the Court with their eyes glued to the ocean. Reporters, photographers, anyone who could spare a moment had gone to the seaside to catch a glimpse of the fabled beast. Even the inmates made bets and took turns to sneak around the Fortress to try and see the monster for themselves. Since the Archon was no more, did this mean the return of the Hydro Sovereign? Fontaine was full of speculation and the administrative office of the Palais Mermonia had kept silent.
Wriothesley, however, knew very well the Sovereign had walked among its people since a long, long time ago; had watched over the nation, ruled and maintained order with dutiful diligence and silent perseverance. In private, he liked to call him ‘Vivi’, much to the Sovereign’s embarrassment.
Serene gave him a lamp and guided him through the currents to a secluded cave under Merusea Village, where his Vivi took shelter. She warned him Monsieur Neuvillette wasn’t feeling like himself, to be cautious around him and to thread carefully over the slippery rocks to reach where he was resting.
The Warden nodded along and slowly made his way inside. Only a few twists and turns, and he reached a clearing earlier than anticipated, where his husband was sleeping near an underwater lake. Wriothesley hummed and heard the slow breathing, a low rumble with every exhale.
Lifting the lamp, he could clearly see the dragon curling up, the steady rise and fall of his chest and the rhinophores dimly glowing in the dark. Blue iridescent scales covered his body and a silver mane lined along his back.
“Vivi?” Wriothesley tentatively called.
The dragon stirred, letting a soft huff as he opened an eye. Slitted lavender eyes looked down at him with a low growl before he stretched and yawned. Sharp fangs and forked tongue on display, Wriothesley took another step after watching his dragon stretch like a cat. It didn’t help the case as Neuvillette purred, laying once more and stretching his head to nudge his beloved with his snout.
There, Wriothesley thought—pride filling his chest—was his husband.
“Beloved.” The dragon spoke in the Warden’s mind, purring as Wriothesley placed his hand on his face and caressed him. A soft thump echoing off the cave as his tail swished happily with the affections.
Wriothesley laughed, letting the dragon sniff him as he hugged his gigantic head, scratching over the elemental mark on his forehead.
“Beloved,” the dragon warned. “I am not a dog. Don’t treat me like one.”
“I know you aren’t. If I have to describe you, I’d say you’re more like a cat instead of a dog.” The Duke barked a laugh as a textured tongue poked him. “How are you, my love?”
“Tired.” Neuvillette sighed and nuzzled his husband. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, sweetheart. But the Fortress is all set up. Sigewinne and Clorinde will be running it these days, so I’m all yours now.” His eyes and voice softened, looking adoringly at Neuvillette. “How are they?”
Slowly, the dragon moved his neck aside and Wriothesley could see three glimmering blue eggs, each bearing the Sovereign’s sigil and glowing with its elemental power, nestled and protected by his mate’s large body. The Duke smiled wide, a warmth spreading from his chest and enveloping his whole being as he kneeled in front of them, carefully caressing the shell and cooing when there were movements inside.
“There you are, my little terrors,” he laughed when a claw poked his side. “I know you guys are being good to Maman. You’re behaving and not stressing him, right? Don’t worry, Papa is here and we can give Maman a break. Who wants to tell me what you’ve been up to while we let Maman sleep, hm?”
As Wriothesley cooed, he took off his coat and wrapped it around them. Neuvillette gently nudged the Warden with his snout to lie with their children as he curled up again around his most precious treasure.
— +1 —
As the years went by, Fontaine slowly entered a new administrative era with the Palais Mermonia as its symbol. Law colleges, new policies, and capable professionals took over the judicial system. Neuvillette stepped aside to let the humans handle more responsibilities on trials as he decided to oversee only the difficult or political ones.
Wriothesley had employed assistants in the Fortress as well, deciding he wanted to spend more time with his husband now that Neuvillette wasn’t overworking himself. Besides, their children had threatened them to take it easy and rest.
The Duke laughed when Ophelia said she didn’t want to catch a whiff of his hair at the prison. Evelynn, as head of the Marechaussee, had sent word to the Melusines to report to her immediately if they saw traces of her parents near the Palais or around the Opera Epiclese. Vincent, fortunately, preferred diplomacy to violence unlike his sisters, and banned his parents from visiting their workplaces on days they shouldn’t be there.
So, with so much time on their hands, the couple spent their days off at a secluded beach cabin. Wriothesley liked to tinker in his workshop, coming up with new toy ideas for their grandchildren or upgrading security systems for the Fortress. Ophelia wouldn’t be mad if she didn’t know.
Neuvillette had taken to learning new cooking recipes for when the kids visited, along with knitting and sewing. Skills he found very useful for a relaxing moment in his crafts room making dresses for his beloved Melusines.
He also liked to go swimming, choosing to revert to his original dragon form to fully connect with his element. The Duke liked to watch him from the shore, sometimes, appreciating the Sovereign in all his ethereal and majestic beauty from the sidelines. Like today, where his husband was lazily floating and playing with a red shell between tiny white paws.
Wriothesley chuckled, reminiscing the first time he caught Neuvillette in this form one late afternoon, sun setting and casting a warm glow over the gentle waves behind the Opera Epiclese.
The Warden had come to the surface for official business, but since he had some time to spare he decided to take a stroll at the beach, spotting the family of otters. He liked to watch them anytime he was outside, so he was more or less familiar with its members. Getting closer but making sure to keep his distance to not disturb them, he found a new member among the group.
It was a bit bigger than the rest and when it spotted him on the shore, it swam towards him. Wriothesley was surprised; although they were friendly and curious creatures they never approached him. This one straight up floated near his feet. It had an unusual marking on its forehead and Wriothesley had the feeling the otter, somehow, was staring into his soul.
“Hey little guy,” the Duke greeted, daring to stroke its head. The creature let him, purring softly as he scratched him under its chin and clung to his arm. Wriothesley laughed and picked it up, staring back into its eyes. The marking glowed and he grinned. “Are you the one who visits the Fortress, too?”
The little thing gave a soft chirp and Wriothesley looked around, picking up a nice, red shell. The otter took the gift and hugged it between its paws.
“I must say, you look cute like this, Vivi.”
The strangled noise the otter made, between scandalized and upset, was enough to make him hear a clear and loud Wriothesley in his mind. The Warden didn’t mind, he just laughed heartily and placed a soft kiss on top of the otter’s head.
~